The Inventor
by DOORSTEPPED
Summary: Harry Potter, preferably known as Langdon "Ray" Aleksandar Hargreaves, is an inventor, a prodigy, and... rather odd. Features a Steampunk!Harry AU Possible Slash and Prodigy!Ravenclaw!Harry. Rated for safety, and most likey language- I'm a potty mouth
1. Chapter 1

Steampunk Harry

Harry Potter was an… _odd_ sort of boy. His relatives thought so, his teachers thought so, his friend thought so. Just so you know, that was _meant_ to be singular.

Harry Potter, or, as he preferred to be called, Langdon "Ray" Aleksandar Hargreaves had many… _odd_ interests. His friend made the name up based on his passion for "Steampunk" anything. Harry's friend was a young girl, a year younger than himself, who had been rather taken with his inventions (not to mention his… attire). Her name was Rose, although the name given to her by Harry was Evangeline Deryn Melrose

Although "Rosy", as Harry insisted on calling her, was greatly influenced by her "older brother" and all the Steampunk novels she read, she was much less… _odd_. For one, she dressed like regular 9 year old girl, except for the goggles and contraptions her "brother" bestowed upon her, and two, she was of average intellect. Her looks were ordinary, with her long chestnut hair in little ringlets and her hazel eyes, she was pretty enough with a button nose, and a constant smile on her chapped lips. And she was clever, yes, but no child genius. But Harry, Harry was what one might call a prodigy. By five years old he was reading through all the sci-fi and fantasy books at the library, by seven he was nearly finished all the books on science theory and engineering, and by ten years of age, he was inventing, reinventing, modifying and fixing things. First it was toys, all the little action figures and playthings his cousin had broken, then it was small electronic toys, and eventually he was rewiring the broken computer tossed into his bedroom, and covering it in bronze plating and odd gadgets.

His looks were rather… _odd_ as well. His eyes were unnaturally bright, with an intelligent gleam, and suspicion people don't often expect to see in a boy so young. They were also covered by Brass goggles he had made from his old bottle cap glasses. His hair was tangled in waves just past his ears, black as coal, and soft to the touch. His knees were knobbly, but no one could tell from under his gentlemen's trousers. He was thin, unusually so, and a smidge shorter than the other boys his age. He wore a button up shirt, with gadgets on his cufflinks, under an "aristocrat's" black waistcoat detailed in silver with a brass pocket watch (homemade, of course) hanging from the pocket and all covered by a Steampunk tailcoat.

To be perfectly honest, Harry enjoyed being odd. Ever since he was little, for as long as he could recall, his relatives had made it perfectly clear that he was… _normal_. He would always think this word with no little amount of disgust; _those people_ were _normal_, but not him. He was extraordinary, and he knew it. But if anyone were weird it was most definitely his aunt and uncle. When he was nine, they had blown a gasket when Dudley had asked Harry if magic were real. This of course was absurd.

Of course, the answer had been no. And then, Harry had been granted his own room. Although his family didn't much care that he was a prodigy, the fact that he believed in Science and nothing else seemed to please them greatly. As a matter of fact, they asked him about imaginary things such as "post-owls" and "magic" on a regular basis of about once a month. Harry found the concept of magic interesting, but the reality of technology was a much stronger pull.

It wasn't much of a surprise when the offer made by a scout who had come by looking for children worthy of applying for a scholarship for gifted children, was accepted on the spot by the young boy.

By the end of Harry's tenth summer he was enrolled in Genesis School for Prodigies. On September the 7th he was driven to the airport by Rosy and her family (just because they weren't terrible, didn't mean his relatives were nice) and boarded his plane to Greece after many a heartfelt goodbye.

Tipping his English topper one last time, he walked away, waved over his shoulder and told of many letters, and a promise to "invent you a post-owl!"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

A/N: I just wanted to thank the people that reviewed the last chapter, and say 'I hope you enjoy the new one!', and just to clear this up, at this point in the story, harry is twelve going on thirteen… if my math is correct. Which is not super likely. I'm actually failing that class.

Disclaimer: I own nothing (of importance at least).

Harry was walking down the hallway of Genesis School for Prodigies, on his last day. It wasn't quite the end of the year yet, but they were sending him home early. The school offered degrees in many different university levels courses, and lasted for up to eight years of sped up class They were sending him home early, because to their surprise, he had finished all their various courses for all the years, most of them online from his room, within the 3 years of class, and had read through the entire vast library. A week and a half before class ended.

Harry sighed deeply and finished his packing. Slipping his brass goggles on, followed by a top hat with a rather large crimson feather, he slung his old fashioned trunk onto some overcomplicated metal contraption, and wheeled it off.

He strode through the empty corridors, his trunk rolling behind him, the clinking of the gears following him. As the boy stepped into the taxi waiting for him, he pulled his pocket watch and checked the time.

"Sir" He inquired politely.

"What is it ye wan' boy?"

Harry cleared his throat and told the grouchy cab driver, "I am to board my flight in a rather short period of time, and I would gladly pay you double if we arrive at the airport within the upcoming ten minutes."

"Yeah, alrigh' then" the cab driver agreed, accompanied by a curious look in the direction of the boy who spoke like a man from the early 1900s.

When the taxi arrived at the airport, Harry promptly took his trunk, payed the cabby and left with a curt nod in the car's direction.

As he entered the airport he noted with some arrogance that the technology was rather lacking, not to mention the completely mediocre system. Harry thought the décor was banal as well, it was all white!

He manoeuvered himself gracefully through the throngs of people, dragging his trunk behind him and disregarding any odd glances tossed his way. Really, he thought, these people have absolutely _no_ decorum!

Security was a joke and not a particularly funny one either. But really, that was fine with him; it just made it easier for him to sneak his tools onto the plane to fiddle with.

While Harry relaxed in his seat, he contemplated his trip through the airport. His fingers idly twisted a thin sheet of warmed up metal into a circle, which was then screwed onto the back of the pocket watch he had been creating for the last three hours, effectively hiding the gears.

The food was abysmal, the entertainment mediocre, and the never ending wailing of an infant two rows down was driving him insane. No wonder airplanes are so popular in comedic acts; there was so much to mock. Even the stewardess was unpleasant.

Harry sighed loudly as he shook awake the slumbering man beside him and the flight attendant's voice sounded over the intercom announcing their arrival in England. Sadly, Harry would be staying with his relatives until the following year when he would go get a degree in psychology (as he had already achieved his degree in engineering, a doctorate or two and a masters in fine art and literature, among others). Harry gathered his things and disappeared into the crowd before reappearing at the luggage pick up. He immediately spotted his trunk (as did everyone else in the area) and left to meet with Rosy and her parents.

Rose had grown in the past few years, her lips still chapped and her face still liberally spread with baby fat, but quite a bit taller, and much prettier. According to his Rosy and her parents, he had grown quite a bit as well, although his knobby knees remained. He had grown in height, but aside from that looked mostly the same, as he hadn't had much fat to speak of in the beginning.

The reunion was tearful and sweet, with much too much crowding and touch to Harry's slightly agoraphobic person. He was driven home, and given the customary salute from Rose.

He knocked on the door to number four privet drive, and was met by an ugly face that was quickly turning a grotesque shade of puce. "BOY!" Harry's uncle Vernon half growled, half shouted, "What are doing here!"

"Well, Uncle, it seems I finished my schooling at Genesis early. Next year I shall be leaving your home to get my degree in psychology, seeing as I've already gotten my scholarship. It shouldn't take long as I'm mostly finished said programme, but once I have the degree I have a job in a hospital whilst I attend school for a law degree. So really, in a few months, you shall be rid of me once and for all."

Vernon stood silent contemplating, before calling down his wife and son "The Potter boy's staying for a few months! Clear out Dudley's second bedroom!" Vernon clapped Harry on the back, and led him upstairs.


End file.
